In Fire and Ash
by Flick Montana
Summary: Only a select few can prevent the Human race's descent into darkness. However, their worst fears come to fruition when they unleash an unspeakable evil. Up in the heavens, all hell is about to break loose.
1. Chapter 1: Remnants of Pride

Chapter 1: Remnants of Pride

The floor lurched and the walls shuttered violently as Admiral Norvitz and his entourage raced through the crumbling old battleship toward their waiting escape pod. In all his years of service, the Admiral never expected to see his old warship destroyed with him still at the command. All his years serving aboard the old girl were disintegrating in fire and ash. There was little time to reminisce now, their pod awaited.

"Admiral", the young ensign shouted over the explosions "We must move faster! Your safety is imperative!"

Admiral Norvitz turned his attention to the determined young man and intended to speak his mind, to tell him never to be so disrespectful to a man of such high standing. Before he could say anything an explosion ripped through the corridor. There was no sound, merely a red-hot searing wind as the force of a thunderclap knocked everyone to the ground. As fire spread above his waylaid team, the surrounding world slowly clouded...

The Admiral opened his eyes, unsure of the time that had passed. He was no longer on board his ship. He was now lying on the cold metal floor of an escape pod from the C.W.S. Coat of Arms; he recognized the insignia of his old ship. The escort, sitting inside in a circle around him, once fifty strong, now consisted of seven men, burned and bleeding from every area of exposed flesh.

"My ship...Where are we?" the Admiral asked of his shaken troops.

"We're safe for now. That's about all we know, sir."

The lantern jawed man looking down at him with cool blue eyes was a welcome sight. His best Captain had survived the slaughter. Deep inside, the Admiral knew he would. The man could not be killed, it was that simple.

"Captain Airoue. It's good to see your ugly face", the Admiral grinned. "Where are we? Where is the rest of my crew?"

Airoue's face tightened only for a moment. The man had a strong composure. "I can answer one of those questions, Admiral...if you really want the answer." The Captain looked down at Norvitz with a face so full of anger it could frighten a stone, anger intended for their enemy. The Admiral knew before he asked that his crew were all killed. There was no point in avoiding the fact.

The Admiral, with the help of several bloodied soldiers, strained to the nearest window where the Captain had been setting his gaze. He expected to see something of interest, but saw nothing. No planets, no nebulae, not even a nearby star system. The blackness of space permeated everything where a small pinpoint of light from a distant star did not.

At the head of the oblong pod, attempting to work the communications, was the ensign who had been so rude to the Admiral before. All of that was overshadowed by their trouble now.

"You didn't answer my other question" the Admiral said to his Captain, "Where are we?"

Captain Airoue merely shook his head and continued looking out the window as he said, "We haven't got a clue." The man quickly turned to face the aching Admiral and informed him of the situation at hand.

"Sir, we've passed through a wormhole. We're not sure where we are. We have only a few days worth of rations on board. Lieutenant Arturo managed to target a nearby planet and direct us towards it, it's only a matter of time now."

So the young man was a Lieutenant, the old Admiral thought. Age must be creeping up on him; he had always known his crew inside and out. The old man hoisted himself up to one of the seats next to the Captain.

"Captain, do we know of any life on the planet?" The Admiral asked.

"Sir, as I just said, we don't know where we are." Airoue looked at the Admiral with a questioning glance.

The Admiral could not believe his redundancy. He should have known that. Such a look from his Captain spoke volumes. The Admiral would not ask any more questions. He could not afford to have his few remaining troops thinking their leader was a simpering old fool. He looked out the porthole to his right and waited. They all waited in uncertainty; waited for more uncertainty...

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On board the C.W.S. Saratoga the search and rescue equipment was going crazy. Warning lights flashed, ion trail detection devices showed hundreds of paths leading to and from the battle site and the extraction gear was pulling metal shards and pieces of bodies alike out of the cold space. The area had become a junkyard. Where once the pristine Confederation of Worlds' Armada had rested, undergoing deep space reconnaissance, now only frozen pieces of metal floated in the abyss. Captain Serman searched the darkness with unforgiving eyes. He dared an enemy ship to attack now, to attack a Human starship that was ready for battle. He almost wanted some unknown evil to spring from the darkness. The long range sensors already relayed that no enemies remained, but he searched nonetheless, perhaps to pick up something the sensors could not. However, all the cowardly Saurians had long fled the scene of their attack. They would not have stuck around long after such a horrific assault.

"Sir, the recovery teams say there is nothing left but flotsam out there." One of the young officers said.

"Keep searching." Captain Serman said coolly.

"But, sir, there's nothing left..." the ensign stated unsurely.

Turning his head from the empty blackness, the Captain merely looked at the officer at the helm.

"Yes, sir. Dispatching a second recovery crew now." The ensign said, under the weighty eyes of his commanding officer.

Captain Serman would not give up on the old Admiral who had once given him what he thought were such pointless commands. Somehow he knew the man was still alive. Even if he were clinging to a shard of metal and holding his breath...the Captain smiled. He remembered how he was once ordered to scour an enemy shipyard, filled only with empty hulls of stripped down vessels. What seemed like a fruitless task produced a hidden cache of enemy star maps and trade routes. Captain Serman would find this man if he had to search every piece of wreckage by hand himself. He would not give up on the man who did not give up on him.

After hours of searching, a voice came in over the VoiceComm.

"Captain", a hurried man blurred, "You need to see this now. Um, sir!"

Serman turned without a word and hurried to the cargo hold. Some shred of the Admirals whereabouts were too much for even his strong will as he broke into a dead sprint down the corridor.

He burst into the recovery bay, out of breath and desperate to see something positive. Instead he was greeted by a fragmented piece of metal that read "...S. Coa...rms". It was easy enough to piece the puzzle together. He would not need to see the other pieces that had been recovered. He turned for the bridge immediately, just as quickly another message came over VoiceComm. The news of what had been found stunned even the stalwart Captain. He walked onto the bridge only moments later with the plan of action already ingrained in his mind. There would be no turning back. This wormhole they had discovered was flailing violently. If they did not pass through now, the tunnel could collapse or begin to lash through space like a sentient worm. He gave the order for their massive deep space vessel to enter at full speed. There was no looking back as the ship became shrouded by the pulsing energies inside the unstable wormhole. The ship was pulled in, hurled towards the unknown.

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Several days had passed in the cramped life pod. The planet came into view what seemed like ages ago. A massive green giant coated in beautiful vanilla clouds. The world seemed almost too appealing, as if anyone who saw it would be drawn there. The likeliness of this world being uninhabited was slim in the Admirals mind.

They had finally come within range to begin descending to the surface. As they entered the thick atmosphere, the blue and red fire of a fast descent flashed outside the portholes. Everyone remained fastened to their seats as Lieutenant Arturo piloted the pod to the surface, hoping for a smooth area on which to land.

As the rumbling vessel broke through the cloud cover the oceans and forest of an untouched world appeared below. The pod skimmed low, looking for somewhere to land amidst the massive alien trees. There was no clear area to be found and the ship was descending too fast to search any longer. Norvitz gritted his teeth as the craft clipped the trees at a speed he dared not imagine. Everything grew silent as the woods they were flying over ended abruptly in a sheer cliff. The drop below lead to a massive lake. The ship tried to veer to the shore, but could not make the intense turn quickly enough. The trees drew closer at a violent speed. This would not be pleasant. Blackness consumed Novitz's mind, only warm pain existed in the void now.

Many decades had passed since the Human and Sakkra forces had begun to clash. The forces fought for pride and nothing else. What had started as border skirmishes developed into a full-blown war when pride turned into an overwhelming hatred of the other race. Their battles were played out on a grand scale; entire worlds massacred in the name of the victorious. There were few allies to be had nearby. The illusive Trilarians were more than happy to fight against the Sakkra, but their numbers were few and their power dwindled. The Meklar refused to aid anyone with flesh and blood. The only other race within range was the scattered Bulrathi. A forgotten empire from a bygone era, they flourished under the helping hands of the Human race. They were given homes and land upon which to live, but they were used as labor and many Bulrathi doubted their value to the Human cause.

The lack of allies did not mean a lack of casualties, however. Most recently a large fleet of ships had simply disappeared off the charts shortly after relaying a distress signal. They had been wiped out and the ship sent to find them, the C.W.S. Saratoga, had vanished without a word. No one knew the fate of the almost 2,500 men that were now unaccounted for. No one except the few survivors who were just then pulling themselves from their crashed life pod.  
Light returned to the world again as Admiral Norvitz awoke to a gasp of thick and muggy air. The ground around him was laden with bodies covered in a milky fog. The stench from the mud he was laying in was overpowering. Muffled voices brought a stir to the air as two men were making futile attempts to revive the dead, the obviously dead.

Norvitz rolled his head to his other side only to see the ravaged face of Lieutenant Arturo. His empty eyes gazed beyond Norvitz; they gazed at something no one could see. Norvitz suppressed his throbbing stomach and rolled onto his side away from the glazed eyes of his young officer.

He was immediately greeted by Captain Airoue who had been bandaging the Admiral's leg, which was bent in three directions.

"It's good to see you awake, Admiral", Airoue said, "We were afraid to move you. You're not in good shape, sir."

"How...how many?" Norvitz asked.

"We lost 3 men, sir." Airoue said as the gurgling moans of someone nearby announced a fourth among the dead.

The Admiral attempted to speak, but no words sounded as his mouth worked silently.

"Save your energy, Admiral", Airoue said, "You're going to need it. We have a long hike back to shelter. We saw a cave before the crash."

The Admiral nodded weakly and once again laid his head to rest in the mud. He trusted Airoue and at this point he had no choice. The man was capable enough to handle the group without the ailing Admiral's help.

"Admiral", Airoue looked into his eyes with what appeared to be compassion, "We have to move you. This will hurt."

It had been an understatement. As Airoue lifted the Admiral off the ground, something beyond pain coursed through his body. His leg dangled below the knee, barely attached. The pain was too much for the old man and he fell unconscious. Airoue continued past the wreckage towards the cave they had spotted on the way down.

It had only been dumb luck that the lake was deep enough to absorb some shock, but shallow enough to let them glide to the shore. Still, the crash had been terrifying, even to Airoue. Two of the men, including Arturo, had been dead on impact. The others died from trauma. Now only two men aside from himself and the Admiral were alive. The V.I.P. pods contained the highest ranking among the crew. While most had died in the initial fight to reach the pods, Chief Engineer Davidian Brooks and Crew Counselor Martek Cain had survived. They would not be helpful if the group was forced to fight for their lives, but they were intelligent men and had kept themselves together so far. They pressed on towards the cave.

In the distance, Airoue heard the sounds of indigenous life. They were not pleasant sounds, not sounds that a visitor wanted to hear. Above him, the sky darkened and a light rain began to fall. A fitting weather pattern to match the somber mood of their voyage's end. All around them, massive trees with inch-thick bladed glossy leaves blossomed menacing spiked red and gold blooms above thick, black, gnarled trunks. Oily plants dotted the ground, some even seemed to watch the strange passersby as they neared. Spider web- like moss hung from all the trees and swayed in the gentle breeze that, though it was warm, made Airoue shiver uncomfortably. The ground was a dense mud satiated with strange clear rocks. But for all his searching, Airoue could not find a single form of life within view. Either everything was afraid of the Human gathering or smart enough to stay out of this place they were venturing through. Either way, Airoue did not like the feeling of being watched that he had experienced since they climbed out of the crashed pod.

Airoue examined the remaining men from his squad. Brooks, a short heavyset man was always unshaven and dirty, with short black hair, where there was any hair left, and quiet brown eyes, but was a good mechanic. He could fix anything that was broken and some things that were not. He mumbled when he spoke, but had a powerful voice and commanding tone when shouting orders to his men. He had a very deep respect for authority and was one of the trustworthiest men Airoue had met.

Cain was a different story. Martek Cain was a short man, small in stature, with a strange way of looking down his nose when he spoke to someone. He had no hair to speak of and piercing green eyes. He wore old style glasses and had a way of walking that reeked of arrogance. He looked too deeply into everything a person said, which was, after all, his job. He took everything with a grain of salt and was too quick to give his opinion at the wrong time.

Their trek across the muddy shore and embankments had been strenuous as the mud bogged them down with every step. Sweat rolled down the faces of Airoue and the other two men. The heavy frame of the fragile minded old man weighed down his every step, sinking him deeper and deeper into the primordial sludge.

As Airoue trudged through the hot stinking swamp towards the cave that only he had seen, he could not help but think of the disaster that had befallen the ship. Against his own will, he put the blame on the man slumped in his arms. The old man's mind was slipping, but Airoue had no power over the Admiral. In truth, they only wanted the man along as a symbol, something to boost morale. However, the man had soon tried to issue orders and shove his weight around. He made brainless calls and orders for protocol that were older than Airoue himself. This was not the old military, the one that existed before the Breaking of Sol. This was something different. There was no protocol. Everything was in the hands of the Viceroy on Tau Ceti; he made the ultimate calls. No one on these ships respected a man of higher rank; it was all just a ruse to appear as a collaborated workforce. In truth, a Bulrathi would have more influence by flexing his arm than Airoue could have over his crew. The crew only obeyed their outranking officers in fear. Fear commanded the fleets now.

Lost in thought, Airoue stumbled in the mud and collapsed into the shallow waters. As warm water hit his face, the sulfur in it burned his skin. The foul tasting sewage stained his tongue and he struggled to get back up, the Admiral pinning his arms into the mud. Brooks helped pull the two men back away from the water while Cain watched on. However, it seemed they had reacted too slowly. Something in the water stirred.

Bubbles popped through the top of the toxic lake, bubbles far too large to ignore. Large ripples began moving towards the shore as the three men struggled to get to the cave, now within reach. Airoue now dragged the Admiral along the mud while frantically searching for his sidearm. He always carried his loaded GP450 gauss technology pistol, which he raised and fired into the water, just ahead of the bubbles that were fast approaching the shore. He emptied a full twelve round clip into the water, each bullet striking with penetrating force; anything that was below would have felt that. It was evident when whatever had been coming towards them quickly fled back to the safety of the deeper areas, the water nearby darkening in color.

"What was that?" Brooks demanded.

Airoue calmly responded, "Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever it was, it doesn't want us here. I suggest we take a hint." He said as he pointed at the cave, just a few hundred yards away.

Cain, who normally spoke more than people wanted to hear, had been silent until this point when he exclaimed, "I don't know what that thing was, and I don't want to. Let's just get out of here before it comes back."

The other two nodded in agreement as they trudged the last small distance to the cave. It appeared dark and menacing from a distance. The closer they got the more obvious it became the cave was not empty.

Cain looked up from a large mound as he said, "I think I know what's causing the smell."

Brooks kicked at the bones of a strange four-legged creature that looked to be built for speed. Obviously not enough.

They were unable to remain near the lake and the cave was already occupied. With no other choice, the men decided to venture into the forest. They would have to wait there in hopes that someone would see the ion trail leading to the black hole they entered. There was no guarantee that the forest was any safer than the cave, but they decided to risk it in hopes of finding drinkable water and food. There was obviously life here. Whether it was friendly or not was yet to be decided. 


	2. Chapter 2: Epicenter

Chapter 2: Epicenter

Tau Ceti: The hub of Human activity. The third planet colonized by Humans after Alpha Centauri. The ever orange and black skies dropped acidic rain more often than not onto the massive Uni-City that spanned the entire planet. The cold and rainy world was wrapped in decaying buildings and ancient burned out houses, crumbling skyscrapers and abandoned industrial mega warehouses. The dark and gloomy city held several levels to its population, from the wealthier habitat domes in the sky to the crime infested mid level apartments to the planet surface, known as ZeroLat by those unlucky enough to inhabit the bottom region. Tau Ceti's size was welcome for the infestation of criminals, murderers and galactic pirates that had become the denizens of the dark underground. Tau Ceti conducted black market transactions and mercenary hiring as its commerce and developed weapons of horrifying intent as its industrial base.

After the eradication of Human civilization on the home world of Sol, all diplomatic relations had to be moved, reluctantly, to Tau Ceti. Here, in his high imperial seat, resided Adonnis Delacroix. Delacroix was the Viceroy over the Confederation of Worlds. He had not been elected, but instead came to power when he rose to command during the battle for Maria, the last of the gaian Human planets, and beat back the Saurian onslaught. Still, his victory came at the price of millions of colonist who were thrust into battle as fodder for the Sakkra soldiers. The moral aspects of using women and children as infantry were overshadowed by the victory. In Delacroix's mind, the end justified the means. He now had nearly absolute authority, as well as something that many leaders did not have; a visage of terror. He was a large man to start, standing well over his fellow diplomats, with broad shoulders that could make even a Bulrathi think twice. But his face, and most of his body, was covered in burns. He had been captured by Meklar when he was a child and an attempt was made to remove his flesh with a searing device. Instead, it turned him into an unspeakably ugly man. Mothers used stories of his face to frighten young children into behaving. Still, it worked in his favor; no one dared oppose his glare.

Today, the Viceroy was looking over the latest reports of his piecework armada, sent into deep space to investigate a possible Saurian colony. The list of nearly 2,500 men and women who had disappeared was uninteresting to say the least; apart from one detail. Two men reported missing struck Delacroix's attention; Admiral Norvits and Captain Airoue. They were among a few reported missing, not dead. Delacroix looked up from the monitor to stare at the high cathedral ceiling above.

"Missing, hmm?" he snarled. "I won't underestimate them again! They're my sole opposition now and I will not be trifled with!" Delacroix shouted to an empty room.

"They're probably cohorts of those whimpering Psilons." He boomed. "They won't take this away from me with some pathetic stunt to..."

He cut off as the door abruptly swung open, revealing a cowering messenger with some kind of report in his hand.  
The Viceroy strode the long distance to the door, his deep purple robes trailing behind him like violet fire.

"I've told no one to enter without permission!" he thundered. "Tell me why you are here or I'll have you thrown to the ZeroLats before you can beg for your miserable life!"

"The Saratoga is gone, m'lord." The small man squeaked.

The Viceroy lifted a gnarled hand to scratch his chin. "So, that fool Serman is in on it, too? They all want me gone. I won't allow it! I'll die before..." Delacroix trailed off as he saw the shaky messenger still standing in the door listening.

The Viceroy leaned in close to the nearly convulsing young boy and whispered in a grating voice "Have Vice Admiral Urmarus report to me immediately."

The scrawny boy gave a quick salute and ran down the corridor so fast he nearly fell several times.

Viceroy Delacroix looked away, out the windows that rose nearly to the ceiling on the other side of the room. "Airoue was the only man who wasn't afraid of me. Of course he would be the one to try to overthrow me. I was a fool not to stop him sooner." The disfigured man rambled on.

Several minutes later a resounding knock came at the door. The heavy handed sound could only be the Vice Admiral. Without waiting for a reply, the door swung open easily as a towering shape filled the doorway. Nearly twice as tall as any man and many times heavier, the lumbering Bulrathi officer filled the room with a presence that could not be ignored. His massive hunched back was shrouded by a ceremonial Bulrathi garb, different shades of blue and brown with his house insignia emblazoned on the back. His tree trunk arms reached nearly to the ground, where his large padded feet moved with unnatural silence. Covered fully in thick, course, brown hair, the Bulrathi's most intimidating feature was his face. Gray hair lined his scalp and worn out old horns curled around the side of his head, a sign of great age. 

As he reached the Viceroy, the Bulrathi fell to one knee, fist pressed to heart, and snorted a greeting. Even kneeling, the Bulrathi could see the Viceroy without lifting his head.

Viceroy Delacroix motioned for the beast to stand. "I have a mission for you." He stated simply. "However, it isn't your average mission. It will be covert. Your identity will remain secret. You are to pose as a weapons officer, not as my Vice Admiral. There are many details which we must cover. Have a seat." He gestured to a large chair made specially for the Bulrathi.

Delacroix explained his situation. He explained the traitors. He also included a few details which, though not true, would become just as good when the rumors spread. While he may not have believed the stories he made of the lost men being traitors, they did seem to fit the circumstances well.

By making the old Admiral and Captain look like traitors, he could make himself look like a hero for bringing back their heads. He would also eliminate his two strongest opponents within the Confederation. What could be better than killing two birds with one stone?

As the silent Bulrathi left the room, the Viceroy walked to his VoiceComm to order some poached Sakkra eggs and some chilled wine. He would make a feast out of this victory. No one would oppose him after they saw his ruthless cunning.

He slowly returned to his monitors to read over the list of the dead. For some reason, reading that list made him feel even more alive. He could hardly suppress the laughter.

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Durias Babcott was the leading prosecutor among the Council's retainers. He was an average sized man, if not a little large around the midsection. He had a smile which curled his lips and made him look like a hungry dog. His eyebrows were thin and pointed in the middle. He had a full head of hair, though many doubted it was real. He kept it greased back and shiny. His skin was pale and clammy and he spoke with a cool, soothing voice that seemed almost musical when he spun lyrics during his cases. He had put many horrible men in prison, and probably a few innocent ones as well. A small price to pay for his outstanding record of nearly 300 victories. His office was large and yet still stuffy. The air was thick with smoke from his cigars. His liquor collection filled the vast majority of one wall. The other ones were lined with commendations and awards for his outstanding services. Babcott was the single most ruthless lawyer alive. He went after his defendants like a wolf on the prowl. His cunning and impish ability to cloud the truth was natural. He had caused his brother to lose his arm in an accident when they were children. He convinced the boy to attempt to hitch a ride on a passing MagneTrain by grabbing one of the railings on the side of the lead car. It didn't work the way they had planned. Durias was so good at creating his own truths that his brother was admitted to an institution for attempting suicide and Durias was commended and pampered for being so brave as to not give in to his insane brother's whims.

Today, however, he had recieved a call that would change his life. For better or worse was not yet determined. The Viceroy himself sent him a message that he had discovered traitors amongst their ranks. Traitors in the highest areas of the military and government. Durias was to investigate. Having orders from the Viceroy could mean a road to immense fame and fortune, or a quick drop onto daggers. He could not fail, not that he was worried he would. The Viceroy was easily displeased, but Durias assumed that was a side effect of being certifiably mad.

All that aside, he would begin immediately by meeting the Viceroy himself to discuss their plans. After that, perhaps a light dinner and drinks. Life as a winning prosecutor was good. 


	3. Chapter 3: Shifting Paradigm

Chapter 3: Shifting Paradigm

The Saratoga coasted through the undulating wormhole at breakneck speed. The ship rattled to her core as she was expelled once again into empty space. Captain Serman let go his white knuckled grip on the railing near his station.

"Comm. Status?" the Captain asked.

"All systems nominal. Hull stable. Everything is in the green, sir", replied the man at the helm.

Serman turned a questioning glance to Lieutenant Leline Aria, his most trusted advisor and closest friend, manning the sensors. "Lieutenant. Anything out there?"

"Yes, sir." She replied, almost bewildered "There's a planet. Class 6 Large Swampworld. High sulfuric levels in the atmosphere, but still breathable. But, sir, there seems to be some sort of ion trail leading to the surface."

The Captain felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. This was where the Admiral had come. He knew it. He could not help but grin with pride for his crew.

"Very well, Lieutenant!" Serman remarked "All ahead full. Bring us into a high orbit and we'll set up"  
"Captain!" Aria interrupted "There's...something approaching. I'm not picking up any energy signals, just a very large object moving in our direction off the starboard."

"Helm. Bring us about. I want to greet our new friends face to face." The Captain ordered.

The Saratoga was not a combat vessel, but had seen its share of battles. If these new visitors were hostile, they would soon find their prey to be quite formidable.

The ensign stationed below looked back at the Captain. "Weapons and shields, sir?"

"Not yet, ensign" the Captain calmly relayed, "Let's see what they want first."

Lieutenant Aria carefully studied her console's readouts as she said "Captain, I'm detecting something strange. These ships appear to be organic in composition."

"Organic?" the Captain pondered. "How can something organic be out..."

"Captain!" the helmsman spouted. "We've got contacts! Lots of contacts! They're closing from all directions!"

"Shields!" the Captain shouted just as the first of the unidentified objects slammed into the hull. "Bring us about! I want to see these things with my own eyes!"

As the ship swayed hard to starboard, one of the objects came into view. Captain Serman's eyes widened in awe as the massive lamprey-like monstrosity drifted towards them. He had only heard of Leviathans as a child, never really believing they existed. He watched as the enormous deep blue worm glided through space like a fish in water. The body of the creature radiated and pulsed with pale lights in every shade of blue. The beast's mouth, many times as large as the Saratoga herself, slowly strained open to reveal the tunnel-like throat from which thousands of small, spearhead-shaped creatures poured forth.

"Captain!" the ensign pleaded, "We need orders!"

Captain Serman was jolted alert as several more of the lampreys struck the ship. "Take us to that planet! We have to get into the atmosphere immediately!"

The ship had only landed on a planet once before, not something Serman wanted to remember. But if they did not land now, there would be nothing left of their ship after these creatures pounded them into oblivion.

"Shields are no good, sir. They're moving through them like they aren't there!" the ensign said. "We're losing power to main systems and hull integrity is at 60!"

"Weapon systems online, sir. Give me a target." The weapons officer said gruffly.

"No! There are too many! All power to engines, make for that planet, helm!" the Captain blared above the shuddering hall of the ship.

The Saratoga pitched violently as the larger Leviathan moved in to attack. The Captain could only try to hold on as the massive worm brushed along the ship, ripping off pieces of his ship's armoring. Crewmen were thrown across the bridge and explosions obliterated many of the consoles. Fires had sprung up across the entire ship and many crewmembers were attempting to put them out with small extinguishers. Outside, the smaller creatures were tearing into the hull of the ship. Some sectors had reported breaches where the parasites had penetrated the hull, but those maydays cut off abruptly. 

The planet was nearly within reach, but the ship would have to make a hurried landing, something the Saratoga was not equipped to do. With the planet drawing near, the landing legs were dropped and more power was sent to the shielding systems. As the ship entered the upper atmosphere of the planet, the Leviathan turned away and the worms attached to the outside peeled off in the intense heat. Everyone struggled to reach their seats as the red alarms were loudly blaring the alert. Outside, massive streams of black smoke poured from the external systems of the ship. Fires had consumed entire areas of the Saratoga and an acrid cloud of smoke had begun to fill the deck. 

"Systems are failing all across the board!" some far away voice announced.

"We're losing control of the helm!" said another echoing voice that sounded a thousand miles away.

"Life support failing!"

"All systems red!"

"The hull is buckling!"

The noise was deafening inside the ship. Fire licked the outside of the Saratoga, tasting its imminent demise. Red, gold and green light flashed across the faces of the men and women of the C.W.S. Saratoga as she broke through the dense cloud cover at a speed far beyond the safety limit. Captain Serman looked at the faces of those with whom he had served for so long. Looked for the last time. Tears streaked from many of their eyes and some were mouthing silent prayer. The Captain turned his gaze one last time to the viewport ahead. The ground rushed to meet the mighty ship and embraced her with unfathomable force.

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Airoue had not taken his eyes from the fireball that descended to the surface, perhaps a few miles from their position. It could not have been a normal occurrence; the atmosphere was far too thick to allow any space debris of that size to fall all the way to the ground. Captain Airoue stood at the north end of the clearing the team had found. In the open, the milky rain fell to them unfettered, but it was a small price to pay for getting out of the woods. None of the men could find water pure enough to drink safely. Without water, they would not survive more than another day, not in the muggy climate of this swamp world.

Night began to stretch over the land as the nearby blue star fell behind the mountains. Airoue looked at his watch to see that time passed much more slowly on this planet. Judging by the positions of the star during the time they had been on the planet, Airoue guessed night would last almost 60 hours and they had been unfortunate enough to crash just as it approached. Blackness soon loomed over the camp and there was tension between the three different men, each with different proposals.

Martek Cain removed his dirty glasses and began scrubbing at them with a muddy shirt. It produced no results, but cleaning his glasses was a nervous habit that Cain had yet to shake.

"We need to head back to the shuttlecraft. There is a chance someone will find us there. Out here we're as good as dead." Cain's nasal voice sounded as he stared off into the night.

"I'm not goin' back there." Stated Brooks "It ain't safe wanderin' at night."

Airoue looked at the Admiral, moaning half conscious on the ground. "Say we head back. Who's carrying him? I couldn't lift him any more if I wanted to and he'll die if we leave him."

"He's nearly dead anyways." Cain whispered under his breath.

Brooks shot a dangerous look at Cain that could be seen well in the blue light reflecting off of the 3 moons. "He's the Admiral! We can't just leave 'im here!"

Airoue shook his head as he ran a gritty hand through his hair. "We're not leaving the Admiral, there's no debating that." The Captain looked into the shadowed woods for an answer he knew he would not find. "We need to find food and water, that's first priority."

"Aye, sir. But we need sleep first, we'll die of exhaustion if we don't get some rest." Brooks interjected. "To be safe, sir, maybe we should have someone stay awake to keep watch."

Airoue nodded approval. Davidian Brooks was smarter than people gave him credit for. "I'll take first watch. Cain, you can take second." The Captain said.

Cain sniffed and mumbled something under his breath before walking over to a large boulder near the center of the clearing, where he sat down to rest.

Airoue kept watch over his men during the uneventful night. It gave him plenty of time to think. To think about the events that got them here. The Admiral made foolish calls by deciding to waltz into possibly hostile space without properly searching the area or setting up protocol for an ambush. He stood at the front of the bridge with that huge smile on his face, his chest puffed out with pride. When the Sakkra ships appeared behind them in attack formation, the Admiral issued defensive actions. The ships were not ready for an attack and needed more time. It was no surprise that the Saurian ships made short work of the escorts, but the Silicoid battle cruisers waiting nearby, that the Admiral dismissed as strange rocks, were puzzling. Silicoids helping Sakkra was not something even Captain Airoue could have predicted. The Admiral resigned command to the Captain too late. There was nothing Airoue could do but give the order to abandon ship. He caught himself as he realized he was glaring at the writhing man on the ground. Looking down at his watch he noticed his shift was up and went to awaken Cain.

"Cain", the Captain said as he approached. "Wake up, it's your shift."

"I'm awake, I'm awake." Cain muttered sleepily. "That bloody old man kept me up with his complaining."

Airoue watched as the lanky bald man walk to his position. The Captain sat down for some rest that he would surely need.

After only a short time, Airoue was awakened by a strange noise behind the rock against which he was sleeping. He pulled himself up to peer over the boulder at the strange crunching noise coming from behind him. What he saw chilled him to the bone.

The Admiral's legs were the last to disappear down the huge gullet of a four-legged animal standing just a few feet from the Captain. The beast stood at least six feet at the shoulders and was as large around as he was tall, covered in short red hair. His hind legs were dwarfed by his massive fore legs, which ended in claws several inches long. The beast had teeth even longer and his glowing yellow eyes rested on either side of his gaping mouth, where the last of Admiral Norvitz vanished in a satisfied gulp. 

The lumbering predator turned his eyes directly on Airoue as he stood from behind his rock. He looked to his left to see Cain asleep on the ground.

"Brooks!" the Captain said in a loud whisper.

Brooks opened his eyes and jumped awake immediately, seeing the giant red beast switching his gaze from one man to the other.

Cain, apparently awakened by the noised, bellowed a scream that startled even the creature that had joined them. The beast roared back; a thundering roar that shook the ground and rattled the trees, deep and guttural but at the same time with a penetrating whistle-like sound. Cain clamped his mouth shut with his hands and immediately bolted for the nearby woods leading to unexplored land. Brooks shouted after him as Captain Airoue drew his sidearm. The giant did not follow Brooks or Cain, but instead stared intently at Airoue, who had his gauss pistol aimed directly at the right eye.

In the still, blue lit night on the strange planet, a single shot rang out, followed by a quaking roar that echoed for miles.

Airoue fell back after his companions, leaving the red carnivore reeling in pain and lashing at its missing eye with seriating claws. Airoue caught up with Brooks and Cain as the stout mechanic was trying to hold the smaller man still, his hand over Cain's mouth.

Airoue barely slowed down as he passed the men and said simply "We have to go. Now!"

Brooks let go his grip on Cain and the two men took off after their Captain.

"Sir, where are we going? We'll get lost out here, sir! "Brooks shouted from behind.

Airoue did not bother to look back as he said "Anywhere but here!"

The men continued running through the woods, the resonating screams of the monster behind them. The Admiral was gone and Airoue could not help but feel less burdened. A feeling that made him hate himself. 


	4. Chapter 4: Burned Bridges

Chapter 4: Burned Bridges

The last light from the twin Suns of Tau Ceti cast long shadows through the Viceroy's chambers. Yellow, orange and red light glistened off the dark clouds and steady rain that constantly blanketed Tau Ceti. Inside the room, the colors danced slowly across the tiled floor, beaten back by the darkness. The tall windows at the end of the room rose from the floor to the ceiling nearly 30 feet up, peaking in a long cathedral roof. The room held various sundries. From wickedly curving steel-bladed weapons to ominous figurines of all shapes and sizes, the room had an air of dementia.

Standing in front of the tall arch windows, his long shadow cast along the floor, stood the Viceroy, his long, deep hued purple robes draped from his shoulders to the floor. The Viceroy wore his hood up more often than not, today was an exception as his scarred head and face lay bare.

The Viceroy slowly turned to look at the Sakkra Ambassador, his name unpronounceable by human tongues, who stood glaring from across the room. The Saurian let his long red tongue hang from his mouth, dripping saliva into a small puddle on the floor. Delacroix looked down with disgust at the mess, his right arm twitching in anger, the ever-present voices whispering malice of blood and flesh in his mind.

"You're drooling on my clean floor." Delecroix stated, aware that the Saurian would not understand a word without the universal translator functioning. The Sakkra curiously cocked his head to one side.

Delacroix sneered as he engaged the translator. The Saurian spoke first.

"The Emperor isss not sssatisssfied with our transssaction." The Saurian hissed. "We want the Im 'Cante Sssyssstem."

Delacroix suppressed the maniacal laughter that was fighting to get free. "You think I would give one of my systems to your Emperor for nothing?"

"Nothing!" the Sakkra spouted, "We killed your rival Admiral and hisss Captain! You call that nothing!"

Delacroix turned his back on the beast as he said, "I have seen no bodies. You have killed no one. And what of the Saratoga?"

"The Sssaratoga isss your problem." The Sakkra spit, "We took care of our end, now you mussst deliver on yoursss. We want Im 'Cante."

Delacroix heard the claws of the Saurian clacking on his tiles at he approached from behind. The Sakkra Ambassador lowered his head as the Viceroy turned to face him, the two standing merely inches from one another, eye to eye.

The Sakkra hissed foul breath in the Viceroy's face as he said "It would be in your bessst interessst to comply with the Emperor." The Saurian looked around at the small items that dotted the tables nearby, eyes wide with interest. "Perhapsss you ssshould even sssend him...a gift." The Saurians toothy grin spread across his face as he turned his eyes back to the Viceroy.

Delacroix was not someone to be threatened as the Sakkra soon found out. The blade entered silently and Sakkra's grin quickly turned red with blood as the muscle and sinew were ripped from his stomach as the Viceroy's serriated knife slid quickly up to the Sakkra's ribcage. Flesh and intestines spilled to the ground at the feet of the two figures. The Sakkra coughed his last breath, spitting blood into the Viceroy's smiling face.

"Yes. I already have a gift in mind." The Viceroy said sullenly as he removed the knife from the belly of the Sakkra, who slumped to the floor in a pool of his own blood.  
Delacroix walked to his console and pressed the VoiceComm, "Send someone in here, the tiles need cleaning again."

Without thinking, the Viceroy realized that he had licked some of the purple blood from the knife in his hand. Some had said he was a madman before he assumed power, others said that power had driven him to insanity. Either way, no sane person would stand against the Viceroy. For those who did get in his way, death was not often as swift as for the Sakkra, still twitching on the floor. Sane or not, Delacroix would not be trifled with by the Sakkra. They were still at war after all. 

The Viceroy slowly turned and strode towards his quarters. There were plans to be hashed out and The Triumvirate would be meeting soon. Since The Galactic Triumvirate had been formed, Delacroix's power had been brought into question. Without the Admiral and Captain Airoue vying for his removal, however, the questions would fade away. As long as they still lived, his power was in danger of being limited. They had to be stopped, at all costs.

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Rain poured down on the dark landing platform and only the flashing yellow warning lights on the small shuttle lit up the area. Vice Admiral Urmarus, the title was purely honorary as Bulrathi were not allowed to rank so highly, plodded through the heavy rains. All Bulrathi hated rain, but Urmarus had more important things on his mind. The mission he was given would tax even his great abilities. He was large, even for a Bulrathi, but his size often caused misconstrued notions that he was ignorant. Notions far from true. Urmarus was one of the few Bulrathi able to speak a broken version of the Human tongue, more than enough to get by on his own. His size and intelligence earned him the reputation of a very reliable warrior, a well-deserved reputation. Working for the Viceroy had been his strangest experience to date, but would prove to be his most lucrative. He could afford to retire after his job was complete here.

Urmarus took one last look at the Viceroy's Hall as he boarded the shuttle bound for the Hess system. The strange man even sent chills up the mighty Bulrathi's spine. The landing crew motioned him aboard and began signaling for takeoff. Urmarus ducked into the shuttle, obviously made for humans, and took his seat. His unforgiving posterior consumed several of the padded chairs. Eventually, the craft lifted off the ground and slowly ascended toward the looming rain clouds above. He would be happy to get off this world and rumor had it that Hess was very nice this time of year.

The trip would be a long one, even along the most direct star lanes, but there was no turning back. Refusing the Viceroy at this point would be signing his own death warrant, so Urmarus instead looked over the plans he had been given. He was being dispatched to steal a ship. Getting on board the ship would not be a problem as Bulrathi often traveled as weapons and combat officers on Human ships. Seizing control of the bridge would be another matter. Rumor had it that the C.W.S. Neutopia, a prototype assault ship, built for speed, would not be easily accessible. With the help of his cohorts from Hess, however, Urmarus could see nothing standing in the way of commandeering the new ship. Once acquired, the new crew on board the Neutopia would be contacted and given their final orders.

Urmarus tilted his head back and tried to get some rest before he met his companions. If anyone tried to stop him they would be in for a trip. Nothing was surlier than a soggy Bulrathi. 


	5. Chapter 5: A Long Night

Chapter 5: A Long Night

The mighty C.W.S. Saratoga, an old but reliable deep space Junker, now lay in ruin along the bank of a large river of sulfur yellow water. Nearby trees lay strewn in smoldering masses across the ground. Scattered fires belched smoke plumes into the thick night air and the stench of charred bodies stuck to the hot night wind. Inside the fallen behemoth the true horror unfolded. Hallways were blocked by unidentifiable remnants of human bodies. Red alert lights flashed across the walls, glistening red with blood. Inside the ship was a nightmare come to life, a haunting scene no person should see.

The hollow moans of those still living, better described as those not yet dead, echoed into the bridge. The alert for crash positions had gone out too late and only those on the bridge had truly had time to prepare. Captain Serman breathed with visible effort, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. His head pounded to the point of nausea and his entire body ached, muscles spasming in pain. Warm blood dripped into his eyes as they searched the room for any signs of life. Serman slowly turned his head to the right, where Lieutenant Leline Aria should have been. He saw her crumpled chair nearly imbedded into the control panel, with no sign of Aria. Serman reached out with a numb hand to undo his safety restraints. He attempted to stand as he pulled the thick, buckled straps away from his body. Serman was surprised that he was able to move at all, much less stand with only good effort.

As he stood and turned to look back his stomach churned violently. His weapons officer's legs were still seated in his chair, but the rest of him, eviscerated by the safety restraints, lay across his control panel. The buckled inner hull had crushed another man, the only visible sign was his arm protruding from the wreckage. As for the rest, Serman could not match a part to a person. But there was still no sign of Lieutenant Aria, the one person Serman desperately wanted not to see amongst all this.

Serman stepped over corpses to the open door that led off of the bridge. The warm air, laden with the stench of death, stuck to the inside of Serman's nose. Water poured through bent and twisted metal, washing blood down the off-canter halls. Serman walked for what felt like an eternity until he came across a porthole that was just above the ground outside. He looked out to see rain beating down to the muddy ground where occasional surges of lighting would light up trees and bushes outside.

Suddenly a hand fell to Captain Serman's shoulder. His body twisted in pain and he rounded to see what startled him.

Lieutenant Aria stood with blood smeared on her face. The blood covered the purple and black bruises she had sustained. Still, the injuries did little to diminish her beauty in Serman's eyes. The two embraced, ignoring the pain that enveloped them from numerous bruised and broken bones.

"I can't believe you're alive!" Serman said. "Why weren't you on the bridge?"

"You were barely breathing", Aria replied, "And I had to try to get to Med Lab. To find something to help you."

Captain Serman nodded, but did not look up from the ground. "Did anyone else live?" He asked, steeling himself for the answer.

"Yes" Aria said. Serman looked up, hope filled his eyes. "But I don't know how to get to them, the ship is a mangled wreck."

Serman accompanied Aria to Med Lab 2 just down the hall. His tensions eased when he saw four crewmen and a medical officer in the room. The crewmen were in bad shape, but they would live. The medical staff member barely seemed hurt as he quickly moved from one man to the next and back to his supplies. He turned his head when the Captain walked in and quickly moved to him. The medical officer supported Captain Serman to a leaning bed in the corner. Serman waved him off thankfully and looked to the man's featureless visage. Too smooth skin covered a lean face, split by a smile that did not touch the cold, solid black eyes of the GenKin. The tall half man walked back to its supply cabinet and removed clean gauze and bandages. Aria took them and thanked the medical officer as it returned to its other patients.

Serman did not care for the thing serving as reserve medical officer. GenKin were genetically mutated humans created to perform tasks that were too dangerous or too lowly for normal men to perform. Some were created as laborers and others as soldiers. Since the war with the Sakkra had begun, Humans found that their long-standing rules in war no longer applied. Saurians targeted medics before any other soldiers and slaughtered them while they attended to the wounded. GenKin, Halfmen, Morphs and whatever other names normal men called them, were enlisted as medical officers due to their incredible physical prowess and quick ability to grasp practical applications. While these creations were quick to perform any task set before them, they did so almost robotically. They had been outlawed in many places due to the high instability of recent models. Obviously, the old Saratoga still had at least one on board.

Serman shrugged uncomfortably under the weighty eyes of the other men in the room. They acted as if they had not noticed him walk in, but Serman believed they only wished he had not. He stood slowly and walked to the console behind the med officer's desk, calling up the current ship status. Every area of the ship was highlighted in red, meaning there was no area the crash had not completely destroyed. The ship, though still in one piece, would not be able to leave this planet. The good news remained that there were survivors in the lower decks. The relays came back with three men alive in Hydroponics, a small group still in Communications and the main concern, five men still alive in Engineering on the bottom level. Engineering held the supplies the crew would need to survive outside the ship, that is where they would head first. The scattered blips from crewmembers accessing consoles across the ship reflected that some of the salvage crew had survived and were attempting to contact one another. Main power was out, leaving little lighting inside. The pale blue moonlight from outside illuminated nothing beyond the bridge, as the Saratoga held no other portholes beyond the main deck. Emergency power surged off and on, red alert lights flashing for a while, before dimming to darkness.

Serman stood and walked to the other crewmembers. "Can any of you walk?"

One man looked at the Captain, a bandage covering his left eye. "Looks like we have to, sir."

All four men pushed themselves off the beds and walked over to Captain Serman, all seemed hurt, but they looked ready for anything. Serman looked them over from head to toe as he ran down the synopsis.

"There are injured crewmen all over the ship. We're not leaving without every one of them. We're going to search one deck at a time starting with Engineering."

One of the crewmen, a skinny man covered in blood but with no visible injuries, raised his hand while speaking. "Captain, I believe there are sentry bots still located around the ship. I can access them from the security station on Communications deck. They might be of help, sir."

"Very well" Serman agreed, "Head to Comm deck, the rest of us will move to Engineering, and when we've secured the crew there we will meet you at the security station. We'll move on from there."

The man nodded with pleased compliance. Serman motioned for everyone to move out, there was no time to waste if men were injured somewhere in the ship. Captain Serman had to separately order the GenKin to follow them, which it did accordingly. As the group entered the hallway, the security officer split off to head to the Comm station while the rest of the group moved to the nearby emergency stairwell.

As the now six survivors moved down the red-lit corridors toward engineering, tensions began to break into accusations. The three injured men were obviously pinning the blame solely on the captain, something Serman was prepared for.

"Hey, Harper, you still have that Neutron Pistol in your cabin?", the eye-patched Ensign inquired.

The other young officer looked back at Captain Serman uncomfortably, "I don't know what you're talking about, Chase."

"Sure you do. You were bragging about how it was an illegal weapon and you still managed to get it on board even though you knew the Captain would have your..."

"Shut up!", Harper spurted.

"What? You afraid the Captain's gonna confiscate it?", Ensign Chase chuckled. "He's one of us now. See? He bleeds."

"Can it, Ensign Chase.", the third man, his uniform that of a Lieutenant, kept his eyes straight ahead.

"I just think we should welcome the Captain. It's been a long time since he's been in the dirt with the rest of us.", Chase said with an acid tongue.

Serman wouldn't lose control over any other part of this mission, certainly not the few crewmen he had left. He stopped in the middle of the corridor. The others slowly noticed and turned their heads to see why he had halted. Serman's eyes fell to the ground and his expresstion turned dour.

"When I was an ensign, I served a captain named Hershell. Pater Hershell. I always thought he was full of himself. He never looked at me when he spoke to me, never even acknowledged me outside of issuing orders. Then, one day, we came across a damaged shuttle with a few survivors. We took them into the docking bay and opened the doors, but it was a trap. One of them rushed out with a blaster and ran toward the captain. He pulled the trigger and the shot hit its mark. I fell to the ground, covered in blood. My own blood. I had jumped in front of Hershell and taken the hit. The rest of the bandits were gunned down in short order. I laid there on the ground, the smell of my own burning flesh hung in the air. I wondered why I did it. Why did I die for this man?", Serman walked to where the other were standing, a few feet away. He approached Ensign Chase and leveled his gaze to meet his eyes.

"It took me years to answer that question. I still can't come up with anything better than 'Respect'. For this job, this uniform...for myself. My life wasn't more important than his, for the same reason that his life wasn't more important than mine. The only difference? I was willing to give mine to save his. Would you do the same?"

Serman set his steady eyes on the young man. The ensigns mouth fell open and his eyes lowered to the ground. He looked as if he were searching for the words that would set everything right. Those words didn't exist.

Serman moved to the front of the group and continued down the hall. The stunned ensign stayed behind a moment, looking at his feet. After about 30 feet separated them, the young ensign looked up, ready to appologize. Serman glanced back. As he did, the ship seemed to shake slightly around them. As the shake grew in intensity the corridor began to buckle. A panel in the ceiling fell open and a nearby support beam collapsed, separating Ensign Chase from the rest of the group. The corridor seemed to split and the noise of twisting metal crashing down into the hall was deafening. More of the support beams looked ready to give.

"Chase!", Harper shouted as he turned toward the collapsing end of the hall.

Serman tugged at Harper's arm to pull him down the hall. "Move now! That's an order!"

The group ran as fast as they could down the shuddering hall. The ship seemed to fall apart behind them. In one final move, the entire ship dropped from under their feet causing them to all to plummet a short ways before landing uncomfortably on top of each other.

Finally, the noise dwindled and the ship was motionless.

"The ship must be sliding down an embankment. All the rain is making the ground unsteady. We can't stay in here!", Aria said, sounding almost panicked.

After several minutes of shouting for Ensign Chase and a fruitless attempt to dig back through the rubble, the group decided to move on. The entire aft end of the Saratoga seemed to have split off and dropped several feet. The ship had bent in half. The hull had split and sections of the ship had begun to flood and became impassable. It would seem their already numerous problems had just been mutiplied. This would be a long night. 


	6. Chapter 6: Dangerous Amalgam

Chapter 6: A Dangerous Amalgam

Urmarus had not enjoyed the trip to Hess, cramped in the small Human shuttle. Though a smile touched his face as they slowly descended towards the planet's surface. The ground was covered by snow, visibility cut short by a strong wind blowing furiously from the north. The whole place reminded him of home. The bumpy ride ended on the landing platform of an apparently disused military base. Large gauss batteries lay dormant at the base's perimeters. The tall watch towers along the outer wall held nothing but cobwebs now. The only sign of life was the docking crew on the ground, waving their flashing signals for the shuttle pilot.

Urmarus exited the ship into the cool night air. What felt cool to the thick hide of the Bulrathi must have been frigid to the Human crew as they stood bundled so tightly Urmarus pondered how they could move. In front of Urmarus was a large stone building, still decorated in faded military insignia. He could not read the Human language very well, but he did recognize the words "Caution" and "Danger" which seemed to cover many signs around the base, including the one above the door he was facing.

All of the Humans in the ground crew immediately moved toward his shuttle to secure everything, except for one man. A short man, nothing visible through his fur clothing, approached the Vice Admiral and spoke loudly, his voice muffled by the wind.

"You're supposed to come with me, Admiral! They're waiting on you!", the man tried to shout over the howling wind. His lips were blue and his facial hair had frosted over.

The stranger turned and began hurrying toward the nearest building before motioning for the Admiral to follow. When Urmarus reached the low-lying structure the man had already begun entering a passcode on a panel next to the entrance. There was a loud buzz followed by the cranking of large gears as the two metal doors slid open to reveal a dimly lit interior. The iced over little man waved impatiently at the Admiral, in an obvious attempt to get inside before he froze.

The two figures entered the building and began walking down a slightly descending stone pathway. Along the walls were many machines, for what they were meant was a mystery to Urmarus. He turned his head again to see that the little man had already scurried a good ways down the path. Urmarus was irritated at his impatience, but increased his gait to catch up. They began turning through a maze of corridors, thick stone walls and heavy metal doors were all that these halls held. Just as Urmarus began to wonder if they would ever get to their destination, the small man stopped at a pair of double-doors at the end of a hall and began to input yet another code. His shaking hand tapped in numbers, while the man positioned himself so that Urmarus could not see what he was entering. As the man entered the final digit, he stepped back to allow the Bulrathi to enter the room first. Whether he was being courteious or precautious had yet to be decided.

The old metal doors slid open easily for their apparent age and wear. As they did, Urmarus was quickly brought to the realization that this mission would not be like any other. He first noticed the Grendaarl standing not ten feet from him, a creature comparable in size to any Bulrathi Urmarus had ever seen. However, as his eyes moved slowly across the room, he became aware of more interesting participants in this circus of mercenaries. Before he could speak, a strange voice called out behind him. The little man that had escorted him inside was no more. In his place stood a shrouded figure with no visible features. Only an endless void gazed back at him from under the deep purple robes, a voice echoing from the space inside the hood. The Darlok asked, or more commanded, the Bulrathi to take a seat as he dropped his old disguise to the ground. As the Vice Admiral did so in a chair obviously brought especially for him, a large, dark-skinned human, his bare chest covered in designed patterns of raised bumps, turned on an apparatus in the center of the table. A universal translator if Urmarus was correct.

A strange man at the end of the table was the first to speak. He did not appear too out of the ordinary at first glance. He wore a black, form-fitting mask over his head, most likely to keep the cold out, and his eyes were shrouded behind bright red, round glasses. He wore a dark red coat as well, which covered him to the length of the floor. However, as the man stood, Urmarus was slightly stunned. The man loomed well above any human he had ever seen. His shoulders framed a wide chest onto which were strapped, under the red coat, several weapons of human technology. The man commanded the room before he even spoke, but when he did speak, there were no interruptions. Even the Grendaarl looked wary.

"You all know why you are here by now." stated the tall man, his deep voice easily filling the room. "We have been chosen for this mission because we are all the best at what we do and only the best will be good enough for this task. The Viceroy has gathered us for this mission because he cannot risk sending out a prototype ship under his orders. Already under the heavy gaze of the Triumvirate, such a task would draw more unwanted attention." He glanced at the others at the table quickly, but his slightly obscured eyes took in every ounce of them. "If the ship is stolen, however, he may command it covertly, while feigning a search for its whereabouts. This is where we come in." The man lifted his head slightly, as if a weight had been unexpectedly lifted. "Before we begin, however, I believe introductions are in order."

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Delecroix sat across the long dark room. The light flashing on his Comm reflected across the sundry of metal objects in the room. The Council was calling. They had ordered an emergency meeting after the loss of the fleet and their best leaders. They felt vulnerable to an attack now. They had no idea.

The Viceroy did not acknowledge the Comm. Instead, he simply stood and walked out of the room into the brightly lit corridor. He had made this walk many times before. Into the Chambers of the Triumvirate. Each time they made their disapproval of his growing power more and more clear. Now that everything was in this broken state, he would sieze his opportunity. One thing was different about this walk: he entered the room with a devil's smile on his face.

As the doors opened before him he saw the Triumvirate seated across the massive room, high up on their dais. On either side of the room sat the Council members. They numbered five for each of the worlds the Humans called their own. Some, he noticed, were not present. Perhaps the Sakkra had already struck. Or perhaps they were beginning to see how futile this Triumvirate was. That the government was best left to the Despot Delecroix. His grin widened. As he passed through the room, bustling with people and booming with a hundred arguments from all different worlds, he glanced at the four leaders of the Triumvirate, gave them all a long stare as he made his way to his seat.

First, seated highest upon the dais, Grand Admiral Erichon of the Military House. He was tall and thin, but as grizzled as a man could be. He had short cut white hair across his head and a large white mustache and beard covered most of his leathery face. His wrinkled, gnarled hands sat entwined quietly on his desk. Not a thread out of place on his green uniform. His many medals hanging quietly. His House no longer believed in conquering every land they set foot upon. Now they wanted to draw in the fleets for protection instead of lashing back at their foes. He appeared to be the epitomy of calm, but his deep set, blue eyes pierced the room and met Delecroix's straight on. A man who did not know fear. But he would learn.

To his left were seated Delecroix's next greatest threat. The twins, Brother Tetsujin and Sister Semujin of the Religion House. They were both short, but Tetsujin was slightly smaller than his sister. He was younger as well. They both had drawn eyes and their pupils were rarely visible. They had smooth ageless skin in a light golden color. They were probably considered very attractive. One more thing Delecroix had against them. Their group was a newly founded spiritual organization that wanted to foster peace throughout the galaxy. They were the antithesis of everything Delecroix believed. They studied the prophecies of ancient man and looked for the origional human world called Earth. They were rooted in discovery and exploration to expand the understanding of humanity and believed it could all be attained through some higher power. They did not desire to conquer or rule, but to coexist. They would prove difficult.

Finally, to Erichon's right, the bloated Count Rebeaux of the Domestic House. A short rotund man whose skin seemed stretched over his portly face. His cheeks were bright and red, his bald head held on to but a few hairs. The man always had a little smile on his engorged face, he was probably thinking about dinner. He was covered in the finest clothes and lots of them. He was constantly dabbing the sweat from his head. He wanted nothing more than money, something to which Delecroix could almost relate. However, he was a glutton. He didn't care for any of the people he stepped on. He wanted everything for himself. To hoard all of humanity's wealth and spend it on food, drink and luxury yachts. He spent his nights at operas and feasts, not at battle. He knew nothing of how to fight. He drew all his money from those who served him, not from the spoils of those he conquered. He disgusted Delecroix. The pig would be the first to die. A victim of his own insatiable hunger.

After Delecroix took his place next to the dais, a recently added honorary seat, Erichon stood and the room fell silent. Save for a few heated arguments near the back, but those died out quickly under Erichon's eyes.

"The Council will come to order", Erichon's raspy voice sounded. "The Triumvirate is now in session. Our first order is the loss of the Pristeen Fleet in the Malus System."

A few whispered voiced turned into a buzz as diplomats leaned closer to each other, some nodding in approval, others grimmacing.

Brother Tetsujin stood, a worried look on his face, "Do not fear. Do not despair. These are fruitless emotions that will only prolong our pain. The time has come to convene with the Galactic Council on our next move. We must all cooperate if this is to work."

He looked prepared to go on, but his sister laid a hand upon his arm and nodded up to him. He made one more quick glance around the room and sat back down, his worry increased.

One of the members of the Council stood and was addressed by Erichon. "Sidous Tanner, the Trepus System, you may speak."

"Thank you Grand Admiral", the man moused. "My colleagues and I are all in aggreement. Something must be done that we have not considered. Something...unusual."

Erichon did not look puzzled like the rest, he appeared to understand and resent what the man was about to suggest. Yet he still allowed it. "Continue", he said.

"We can no longer win this war alone. We knew of the Sakkra threat and believe we could keep them at bay. However, the Silicoids aiding them have changed things. I served my mandatory five years in the Trepus Planetary Guard. I know what our military is capable of. We cannot fight a war on two fronts. We must seek help. Help that the Psilons have offered."

Without realizing it, Delecroix stood and leered at the man. His voice ripped like a dagger through the relative calm. "The Psilons? The whimpering cowards were nowhere to be seen when we needed them at Maria! Who brought us victory then? Where were the Psilons when we sent our recovery crew to search for our missing fleet? You think a race of pacifistic scientists is going to save us? They may have the technology to combat our foes, but they suffer from debilitating cowardice. We need a leader who will turn our foes white with fear, one who is willing to do what must be done. One who will pay the price for victory! If this war is to be won, it must be helmed by a leader who can turn the tides!"

There was a calm throughout the hall. Erichon looked very displeased, the others simply startled and seemingly frozen in fear. As if they did not know what the Viceroy would do next. Erichon looked to turn the subject away from the Viceroy, but someone in the Council changed that. A man seated near the middle of the crowd spoke out.

"He's right", the man said. "We cannot rely on others. We must find victory from within."

His words caused a stir among the crowd. Many people nodded their heads. A few looking around, dazed. Echos of approval sounded out amongst the council. Many more stood and raised their hands, some pointed at Delecroix and nodded, voicing unheard words of approval. The Triumvirate members all looked shocked, except for Erichon who merely appeared unamused. The Viceroy leaned back in his seat, appearing entertained.

Rebeaux stood, his smile reappearing. "This council is not here to elect a new leader. The Viceroy already has his...", the fat man tilted his head and looked at Delecroix as a master would look at his dog, "...position. We must gather our strength for a long battle. We must be guided by insight, not rage. We will defeat our enemies with diplomacy, not cunning savagery. The Psilons will make us pay a price for their help. But better it be money than blood."

Every word he spoke cut into Delecroix. The insults coming from him were so easily masked as he had done it to a thousand people before. Fire raged inside Delecroix's eyes. His look affixed to the porcine Rebeaux in a mad hatred.

Delecroix turned his study back to the council members and stood again. They all looked at him, awaiting an answer. Though his face was taught with anger, his voiced flowed like honey over the crowd. "A time will come when we must turn our backs to the wall and face our enemies. The decision you must make is whether you wish to defend yourselves with words...or weapons."

The Viceroy did not say another word, nor did he look at another face. He simply stepped down from his seat, walked through the crowd and out the doors. No one spoke to him as he made his long march, but their eyes did consider his words. He had planted a seed. Now, he had only to wait. 


	7. Chapter 7: Chittering

Chapter 7: Chittering

Cain dropped to his knees, gasping for air. He coughed violently as his hand clasped his stomach. Brooks turned his head so as not to see what came next. Airoue slowed his pace and stopped next to the other two. He still held his attention in the direction of the fireball he saw ealier. Desperately hoping it was a landing craft intended to rescue them.

Brooks nodded respectfully to the captain as he leaned, exhausted, against a nearby tree. Cain wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spit into the mud. The acrid taste of bile filled his mouth, souring his already unpleasant mood.

"Where are we going!", Cain demanded, staring hatred at the mud in front of him. "Did you see a giant pit full of teeth that you thought we could huddle up in! I'm tired of searching for shelter on this God forsaken planet! First, the water tried to kill us, then some giant red dog ate the admiral! What's next! Predatory plants!"

"Stop talkin'! You ain't fixin' anything by complainin' all the time. If you got somethin' useful to say, then say it, but I'm tired of listenin' to you!", Brooks blurted. He was always a quiet man, so hearing him spout off surprised both of the others. It still caused Airoue to crack a wry grin.

Still, what Cain had said was a bit curious to Airoue. Humans had settled on hundreds of worlds, many with indigenous life. None of them had such a severely hostile environment. It seemed everything on this planet was out to kill. However, there was no time to dwell on that now.

"If we stay put, we're as good as dead.", Airoue stated simply. "You saw that fireball, you couldn't have missed it."

"Sorry, I suppose the giant monster eating my superior distracted me from your cloud watching.", Cain said dryly.

"It could have been a ship. And, frankly, it's the only thing we have to go on right now. If you have a better idea, Mr. Cain, please let me know. I'm open to all options right now.", Airoue said, not in the mood for more of Cain's sarcasm.

Cain shook his head, apparently giving up. He strained to raise himself from the ground, his breathing slowing a little. Brooks looked at him sideways and offered no hand to help. Without another word, Airoue started towards the direction of the streak from the sky, the white cloud of smoke still visible against the night sky. The other two, after a short stare of defiance at each other, followed.

"Sir", Brooks said cautiously from behind, "What if we don't find a ship? I mean, I don't want to be negative, but what do we do if it's just some debris or something?"

"Truthfully?", the captain asked. "I don't have a clue."

Cain laughed in disbelief.

"What I do know", Airoue finished, "Is that we are going to get out of here alive. I did not come this far to die in the jungle on some uncharted world."

"How strange", Cain interjected. "I did. It was actually at the top of my list of favorite ways to die. Oh no, wait, that's right, I bumped it for 'Death by disembowelment'."

Refusing to even acknowledge Cain anymore, Airoue walked on, his destination not more than a couple miles away. They could be there within the hour if nothing slowed them down too much. However, as they trudged on, Airoue felt something amiss. There was no sound coming from the jungle around them. Where before there had been the constant alien chatter of thousands of strange lifeforms, now there was only silence. Silence only broken by a strange chittering noise. It came and went. Airoue was beginning to feel as if they may not be heading away from danger, but instead into the belly of the beast.

As the group pushed on through the thick undergrowth, Cain began to fall back. He muttered to himself under his heavy breathing and scowled into the dirt. To make matters worse, a light rain had begun to fall. Their soaking wet clothes were the smallest problem. The rain smelled heavily of sulfur. The odor permeated everything, came from all directions and assaulted their senses. Their noses curled, their eyes burned, the taste filled their mouths like acid. Somewhere near him, the strange chittering noise started again.

"Marty...", a voice whispered from the woods.

Cain stopped and looked up in surprise. A familiar woman's voice filled his mind like music. He felt slightly dizzy, but this time it was not from exhaustion or the foul air. His eyes darted through the thick forest. He saw his shipmates drawing farther away through the trees. All around him the world seemed to blur, to spin out of control, the rain stopped and a yellow sunlight pierced through the trees. The world twirled nauseatingly around him. In an instant, the feeling was gone. The world twisted back into shape and everything was clear again. The beautiful pine forest in the middle of summer with flowers and sunlight blossoming among the trees. Standing directly in front of him was a tall woman clad in a beautiful white gown. Her hair was fire red and her skin the shade of a lamb's wool coat. Her blue eyes met his with a friendly and loving gaze.

"Marty.", her milky voice sang to him, beckoned him to come closer. She outstretched a hand to him, her arm extending unnaturally far to rest upon his shoulder. She was suddenly much closer.

"Marty, I can't believe I found you.", her voice whispered. "I've missed you so much."

"M...mother? How...?", Cain struggled with the words. His mind felt like cotton. He couldn't think straight. He only knew one thing for sure: his mother had found him. Saved him from trouble again. He was always getting into trouble.

"I love you so much, Marty.", the woman's arms opened wide and welcomed Cain into them. Into safety.

"Mother...I'm sorry. I won't get in trouble again...", Cain mumbled as he walked into her warm embrace, his eyes transfixed on hers.

Two shots burst through his mind and the world he saw shattered. The ghostly woman disappeared into a cloud and caught the wind like dust. The pine trees crumbled, light faded back into darkness and once again he felt the rain on his face. His head throbbed.

"Cain!", some voiced shouted from the back of his head, muffled and dull.

Suddenly, something grabbed him and shook him back to reality. He was staring up into Captain Airoue's eyes. He glanced to where his mother had stood. Now, Davidian Brooks was kicking at a strange spider-like creature lying on the ground, cautiously keeping some distance.

"What happened?", Cain asked, his mouth struggling to work. He still felt in a daze, as if he were sedated.

"I was hoping you would know. After all, you were the one trying to hug the spider. What were you thinking?", Airoue said, puzzled.

"I don't know. I...I saw someone. There was no spider, no rain... It was like a dream...", Cain looked at Airoue with disbelief. "It was so real, though."

Airoue stood and walked to the dead spider. It had a small body, but long legs, nearly a foot in length each. The entire creature was a translucent yellow with a clear fluid flowing from the bullet holes in it's body. The strangest feature was a spherical mass on the head, with a red mass inside. As Airoue leaned closer for a better look, the chittering noise started again. This time it was very close and came from different directions. The brush nearby rustled as something moved through it.

Brooks backed away, nervously eyeing the undergrowth. Airoue once more drew his pistol. The bullet counter on the side read '4'. There were clearly more spiders than that in the woods around them. He hoisted Cain up and dragged him along as he backed away from the noise. It grew louder to their right and Airoue aimed his pistol in that direction as they backed more quickly toward their smoldering destination. Cain's legs began to function again and he backpedaled under his own power, working away from Airoue. The strange chittering increased, but so did a low rumble. No longer in the distance, it grew very near and very intense. The ground itself shook slightly.

Suddenly, from the bushes in front of them, the rumble became a crash through the brush as the red behemoth they encountered earlier rampaged through the woods, reeling and tossing it's head around in a fury, roaring with deafening power. It was covered with spiders like the one they had killed. The spiders were clinging to the beast and sinking a long retractable spike from their abdomen into the animals thick hide. He shook madly, flinging them in all directions, but the spiders emitted a loud chittering sound that seemed to draw more of them. They poured over the massive hulk and stung countless times. A clear fluid leaked from it's wounds.

"Run!", Airoue shouted.

Cain rolled his eyes and began to follow the others, though his legs were as supportive as gelatin.

From behind them, the large red creature roared in pain and anger. It filled the night and shook the ground. As the three ran farther away, the sound of the red monster diminished. His roars were less intense, weaker. Eventually, they stopped all together. The chittering sounds, however, did not fade. Instead, they grew and overwhelmed the night calm. It was the only sound in the jungle now.

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Ensign Chase had walked through the coridoors for several minutes and finally came to the junction that would take him to the security station where Corporal Deeks had gone. He took a right at the 4-way junction en route to the station when he heard a noise. Like click clacking across metal. A stacatto scampering across the panels over his head. It sounded as if there were several of them. Then, a clash of noises came from the hall ahead. It sounded like something splashing in water. The noise faded a bit and Chase moved closer. As he rounded the corner, the red emergency lights ahead were out and blackness filled the path. Water ran up to his feet as the hallway slanted down, deeper into the cold, clouded fluid. As he looked, a vein of red darkened the water.

"Help! Help me!", a voice shouted from beyond the dark. It sounded as if someone was drowning.

Chase pulled a flashlight from his belt and walked cautiously ahead. The water began to deepen as he moved down the hall, the red light behind him seemed a thousand miles away. The splashing ahead of him grew louder, but he heard no voices now. The hallway curved up ahead and Chase could not see around the corner. He heard strange noises in the splashing now. The water was half way to his knees. He shined the flaslight in front of him, but saw no one. There were ripples in the water ahead, not from Ensign Chase.

As he rounded the corner he shined the flaslight down the hall and was stunned by what he saw. A young girl with long black hair and a torn, bloodied white dress sat in shallow water only a few meters away. She was singing.

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout."

"Are you ok? How did you get down here?" Chase saw that she was playing with something.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out."

"You need to come with me, it isn't safe here." He didn't question how a 10 year old girl got onto a military ship. He didn't feel that he needed to. Her presence was normal for reasons he couldn't explain. He shined his light on the object in her hands.

"Up came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again."

As he drew closer and shined the light on her, the object in her hands came into view. It was the severed head of Corporal Deeks, his face twisted and torn where the girl had been eating parts of it.

"My God...", Chase whispered to himself and he moved the light to the little girl. She twisted her head around unnaturally. She was bloated and pus colored, with dark purple veins running through her swollen face. Her white eyes glared back at him.

Chase screamed in terror and dropped his light into the water. The beam visible under the surface. He tried to back away, but stumbled and fell. He heard noises from where the little girl had sat. Something thrased in the water and scraped against metal. Chase desperately fished his hand through the water to find his flashlight. When he finally grasped it, he shone it into the darkness ahead. The mangled head floated in the water, but there was no sign of the girl. Chase searched frantically with the light. He noticed some scarring on the wall. Scrapes that led up to the ceiling. He followed them with his flaslight to their end where the little girl clung to the ceiling. Her head twisted back at him, she opened her mouth and her drowned face hissed loudly. She flung herself at him like a predator to the meal.

Chase screamed as the strange yellow spider sunk it's stinger into his chest. The sounds of thrashing in the water slowly faded. Only a strange chittering noise filled the empty halls of the security sector. 


End file.
